The haor was supposed to glow gold this season. Across the vast wetlands of northeastern Bangladesh, farmers had waited months for the Boro harvest, the one crop many families depend on for survival throughout the year. Instead, the fields now resemble an endless sheet of grey water beneath heavy storm clouds, where ripe paddy lies submerged and rotting.
For days, continuous rainfall and upstream water flow from India have inundated large sections of cropland in districts such as Sunamganj, Kishoreganj, Habiganj, Netrokona and Brahmanbaria. Farmers who rushed to save their crops are harvesting waist-deep in water, carrying bundles of paddy by boat, and in some places even using horse carts to transport whatever can still be rescued.
The crisis has emerged at the worst possible moment, during peak harvesting season. According to the Department of Agricultural Extension (DAE), more than 46,000 hectares of standing Boro crop in the haor region have already gone underwater, raising fears of a national rice shortfall exceeding 2,00,000 metric tons.
But for farmers, the suffering does not end with harvesting. Under normal conditions, freshly cut paddy would be spread under the sun to dry before storage. This year, sunlight has become scarce. Damp weather and continuous rain have left harvested grains wet for days, causing many to sprout prematurely.
In several haors, traditional drying grounds remain submerged, while muddy land and persistent moisture make storage nearly impossible.
Adding to the hardship is an acute labour shortage. Many workers cannot reach flooded fields, and those available are demanding nearly double the usual wage. Farmers say they are being forced to choose between paying excessive harvesting costs or watching their crops disappear underwater.
The haor region contributes significantly to Bangladesh’s Boro production, which itself accounts for nearly 55 per cent of the country’s annual rice output. Yet every year, the same story returns with painful familiarity: embankments collapse, flash floods arrive early, and farmers lose everything within days.
For the people of Kishoreganj’s haor, this is more than a seasonal disaster. It is the collapse of months of labour, investment, hope and dream. Each year, they battle unpredictable floods and extreme weather with little protection. Each year, the dream of bringing home a full harvest grows more fragile beneath the rising water.
